The Great Symmetry (37 page)

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Authors: James R Wells

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The information would be broadcast, but also conveyed in person to key leaders in government, commerce, the arts, and entertainment. Each campaign would be an evolving for
m of the art of infoterrorism, responding, adapting, persisting.

Governor Rezar reviewed the summary report.

The former Affirmatix fleet had dissolved. The twenty capital ships of the D6 had been completely disabled during the misfire of that weapon, and operations were under way to rescue their crews. The other ships had
left the Kelter system for their home systems, following a terse order issued by Captain Roe of Affirmatix.

No force remained to halt the exodus.

Now the ships were cruising toward their assigned glomes
under Incento’s direction. In some cases, they were glomes that had not ever been explored. The routes would take an additional hop, or two, or three, via previously unexplored systems, to drop back into known space at arrival points that clearly represented a previously unknown glome. These ships would arrive in seventy-two hours and one minute from the defined start time. Another nail in the coffin of any efforts at denial.

The new
routes had been planned with trepidation. Even though it was understood very clearly that the Versari data was real, and was accurate, it was still a leap for every crew member. Rezar had ordered that only volunteers, whose willingness was verified through at least two independent interviews, would be on those crews.

The backlog of applicants was overwhelming. Retired admirals pulled strings to get a berth on the prized ships. Finally Rezar had to get Kestrel to design a fair online application
process that could not be hacked.

All this had been done in a few hours.

The first ships approached their glomes. Just a few minutes, either to commit to the course of action or turn back. Of course, there was no question.

“Governor, will you provide the order to proceed?” Incent
o, being by the book.

Rezar prepared to assent, then paused a moment. He looked around the command room. Top brass. Staff. Reporters, capturing every moment. Axiom. McElroy. DelMonaco.
Adastra.

He turned to Mira. “You believed in this, enough to leap a kilometer to your likely death. Do you still?”

“I do,” she said.

“Attention, ship commanders. I am delegating my authority in this matter to Mira Adastra. She will provide the next order.

“Authority? Me? You can’t mean it.”

“In this matter, yes. As I promised. Shall we proceed? If so, tell the fleet. Just speak, and everyone in the fleet will hear you.”

Mira
composed her words for a moment, then she began. “Members of the fleet. I give you no order. I ask you, as friends, to do this. Stop at nothing. Do not be denied. Act as if our lives, and the lives of our children, depend on succeeding in this mission. Because they do
. Each of you will help build a new future for humanity. Without fear, speak what is true, and you will free all of us.”

Slowly, Mira stood. Tall, proud, scarred.

Beautiful.

Rezar said, “Thank you
, Ms. Adastra. To the fleet: if there was any question about it, please interpret that request as an order.”

They watched on the big screen as the first ships vanished from the in-system display.

Rezar turned to Axiom.

“What will this bring us?” he asked. “Even now, I do not know if I am serving my people.
Angering every hornet we could possibly find. All at once. There will be consequences.”

“Then, let us face them. Without fear, we will live what is true.”

“We will face them together, my friend,” Governor Rezar said to the infoterrorist.

Celebration Planning

Axiom relaxed in his visiting room.

The ships had al
l departed. Each carried the information about the Versari discovery, ready to spread the knowledge through known space. The glome routes to a hundred thousand new star systems, and also the ways to get back home. Compared to the thirty systems that currently held human life, the possibilities were close to infinite.

And the ships carried so much more.

By itself, the information about the glomes would change history. By itself, that knowledge might break the control of the Seven Sisters and allow billions of humans to chart their own course.

But as people looked more closely
into the entire package of data, they would discover clues. Those clues would point them at further files in the package, and soon they would be able to unpack that which also waited.

The Codex was sharing its treasures.

Ideas and information that had not seen the light of day for decades or centuries. Skills that had not been exercised by any person now alive. Histories, from the point of view of the vanquished as well as the conquerors. The forbidden economic field of giniography. Some of the content had been
suppressed, other parts simply forgotten, perceived as irrelevant in the world as it had become.

Perhaps most dangerously of all, the secrets of growing and propagating live, fertile seeds.

For seventy years, Axiom and his friends had collected information from all over known space, preparing for the moment when they would have a chance to share it. The effort by their predecessors extended before that, through earlier decades and even centuries.

Now that people would be free to travel to so many new star systems through the new glome pathways, many of the skills so carefully recorded in the Codex over the decades would be getting a workout.

For any given person or situation, there was no knowing what might matter. So it was all in there
. All available for any persistent person to find, without some outside agency tracing the inquiry. The entire Codex was going to be distributed as widely as possible, hitchhiking with the Versari information about the glome routes.

It was a good thing that data didn’t weigh very much.

And now, Axiom had a visitor. She had brought her weaving, on a portable hand loom. Axiom was glad she was here
.

“It will be lonely,” Axiom said. “So many friends leaving for the stars. I hope they will be back soon, and that they will be safe.”

It was virtually certain that some of the infoterrorists would not return. Each one had accepted the risk, and had chosen to go.

“I will miss everyone,”
Orwen agreed. “Still, we will try to be good company for each other.”

“And I thank you for being here, my good friend. So, do you think we will succeed? Will people be able to break free of the Sisters?”

“Soon everyone will know of the new routes to the stars.
The question is what they will do with that knowledge.”

“Exactly so,” Axiom said. “So much was taken during the Fencing of the Commons.”

Four decades before, all open source technology had been declared to be a source of terrorism and thus banned. Knowledge such as how to repair and build electronics or machinery was deemed to be far too dangerous in the wrong hands. Open source offerings were also undercutting legitimate commerce, harming the economy.

“Now we have given it all back,” he continued. “Will it be enough?”


We will see,” Orwen said, “if people are able to exercise their brains once again.”

“What matters most is that it will be in everyone’s hands once again. A worthy purpose and I wish all of our friends a safe and successful journey. Meanwhile, we will use the quiet for something very important. We have a celebration to plan. Mine
.”

Orwen looked up sharply from her loom. “Oh Axiom, you mustn’t worry about that. We will take care of any arrangements. That is, when the moment comes. Sometime in the future.”

“We must start planning for my celebration
now,” Axiom told her. “So we can have it soon. I don’t want to miss it. I am thinking of eight weeks from now. Day twelve
. My birthday. My century. And two days later, the anniversary of the settlement, when we started to live by the tree, seventy years ago. We’ll just make it a three day event. What do you think?”

“That sounds wonderful. But is that a celebration?”

“This one will be,” Axiom declared. “Save you the trouble, later.”

“Well, it would be nice if you get to enjoy it.”

“Now you’re getting into the spirit! We’ll have music. And dancing. All around the tree.”

“Three days, is that a good idea?” Orwen asked. “You’ll need to get some rest.”

They fussed over him too much. Axiom knew that it was from love, but he would never be used to it. “I’ll rest when I’m dead!
So I think the timing is good. Eight weeks. Enough time for many of our friends to come home. Perhaps my niece will be knitted together enough to enter the tree climbing race. Never bet against her, you know.”

“No, never,” she agreed.

“And now I have something to aspire to. After we send out the invitations, I will have to survive at least until the day. I shall make a point of it. Do you think I will?”

Orwen considered the pattern in front of her. “My sisters might know best, but I think so,” she told him. “You have an excellent chance.”

Axiom looked around his visiting room. It had been part refuge, part self-imposed prison for so many years, a place of safety from the Kelter government and from the Sisters. He and his friends had added touches to make the place feel like home. Pieces
in various media, created by artists whose ages ranged from two years to ninety.

Now, he was free to leave, and walk under the light of Kelter’s sun once again. But at this moment, he was most content in this place.

“I also must have some conversations,” he told Orwen. “With my niece, to help her prepare. There are things that she will need to understand, before I leave her. She was fit to be tied, when we said she could not join the emissaries, but it is a good thing. Time to heal, and time for conversation.”

“It is a big responsibility. Do you think she is ready?”

On this question Axiom was certain. “She is already a leader. And events have a way of telling us. When we all walked across the desert together, I thought I was ready for anything. Because it had to be, it turned out to be so. Most important is that she will always have friends to help her.”

“Of course,” Orwen assured him. “We will all help her.”

“I am grateful. Let’s get more snacks. I’d like to have some fruit.”

And so Axiom and Orwen spent the evening planning Axiom’s celebration.

Coda

Evan wasn’t sure how to put it. “Hey, I don’t mean to leave you, Mira, but−”

“Got a date, eh? I’ll bet she’s all fired up, now that we’re going to survive and all.
Could be your lucky night.”

“Mira−”

“I know, I’m being bad. So have a good date.”

“You don’t mean that.”


You could do worse,” Mira admitted. “Considering it’s you we’re talking about.”

“There’s some praise, I guess.”

“Just one thing. Let’s say for whatever reason you decide you want to be with
little miss privilege, how about this time you don’t blow it? Even she deserves better than what you pulled last time.”

“Hey, there’s a lot you don’t know,” Evan protested. “It was complicated.”

“Then let’s make it simple. If you say you love her, you can decide that means a little more than chasing the next rumor. You can
stick around this time. Even if it means you have to read one of those insufferable books and pretend to like it.”

Whenever Evan thought he understood Mira, there was something new to learn. “You are totally confusing me now. What do you mean?”

“I mean,” and she reached out with her good arm to tap his chest, “that if you are not fair and honest with her, if you don’t do what you promise, then you will have to answer to me
. And you don’t want that. Do we have an understanding?”

“I guess – yes. We have an understanding. You’re not, um, going soft, on−”

“Oh, no. Can
’t stand her.”

“Good news. So what are you going to do tonight?”

“I’m getting together with Ted later,” Mira told him.

“Ted?”

“You know, the governor. We’re going to talk about that military exclusion zone, around the Valley of Dreams.”

“To get it revoked? So you can go back?”

“No way!” Mira exclaimed. “Expanded! And enforced. No entry, by anyone at any time, for any purpose
. It will be a preserve. Because it’s not like there’s anything out there that anyone would ever want.”

“Nobody? Not even you, Mira?”

“Nobody.”

“But, you know, Unfinished Business?”

“Will remain unfinished,” Mira declared. “There’s nothing out there. We are going to talk about
expanding the preserve, and then Ted might give me a putting lesson.”

Evan was floored. “Putting? You don’t mean that.”

“Well, I can’t do a full swing yet. And putting is half the game. He says it’s tough to master, but he doesn’t know me. I’m totally going to take him. After I’ve had
a few lessons.”

Mira, golfing. Evan wondered if he had somehow been transported to an alternate universe.

“I bet you will take him,” he offered. “So, have fun. Little one.”

Evan realized that he was easily within range of Mira’s crutch, held in her good arm. He started to back away, expecting the worst.

Mira just smiled sweetly at him and said goodbye.

Evan headed for the location of his hundredth
date with Kate. Or their first, depending on how you counted it. By Evan’s reckoning, the first ninety-nine or so of their dates consisted of field rations and beer, in and around the Valley of Dreams site. By Kate’s reckoning, their first date had been at this place
. The food was called Mexican, after a nation that used to exist on Earth, in the mostly uninhabitable equatorial zone. It was a choice they could always agree on.

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